The King's Last Word
by mashimoshi
Summary: Even with the King dead, Anne and Aramis still cannot find themselves a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

**So, a new story! Yayyyyyyyy!**

 **Yes, this will be another Anne/Aramis romance story. As you probably have already realized, I love the pairing, and will, most likely, never stop writing about it. But, I have decided, that after this story, I will try to refrain from writing romance, and will try and write something about, maybe, our favorite four Musketeers.**

 **So, for now, enjoy! I hope you like this first chapter of a brand new work of fiction. Please, don't forget to read and review!**

 **-M**

* * *

As Anne began to wake, she felt familiar, strong, and secure arms wrapped around her. Aramis, she thought, a smile forming on her face.

Two weeks had passed since King Louis had left this Earth and since Grimaud had been defeated. And even though Anne was missing the late King, she felt that she was much happier with her lover at her side. Louis did not love her, anyway. Not as he did...

"Good morning, Anne."

His soft voice ripped the Queen out of her thoughts. She looked up to find Aramis looking down at her, his eyes bright and happy. He kissed her gently, smiling against her mouth.

Anne giggled, twisting her body around to face him. "Good morning," she replied, cupping his face, running her finger over the scar he had received on his cheek while protecting her from that madman who thought he was the King a couple of months earlier. She still could never stop thinking of how he had gotten that mark while trying to save her life.

"I hope you slept well," the man said, pulling away from her.

Anne scoffed. "Very well."

Aramis' sighed, his eyes suddenly falling out of focus. He let himself fall on his back and groaned. "I completely forgot, we have a meeting with the council today. We're supposed to read through the King's will, aren't we not?" he said. "I had thought that we could spend the morning together."

The Queen took a deep breath, and then placed her head on his chest, taking his hand. "I wish we did not have to … but it is our duty now."

He nodded, resting his chin on top of her head. He watched as Anne traced random patterns on his bare chest, her fingers lingering here and there to feel one of his other scars. "Sometimes I wish I would never have to leave this bed," he said, throwing his head back against his pillow.

"Me as well," Anne agreed. "But … duty does call. Although, I am sure that we can be late by a couple of minutes."

Aramis chuckled then, picking her chin up with his finger and gingerly placing his lips on her own. "I'm sure you're right," he murmured. "I doubt it would cause any problems."

XxXxX

They were late by only a few minutes, and no one asked why. They began right away, sorting through all of the late King's documents, as well as his will. Louis had given everything to his 'son,' anything and everything he could wear, read, or learn in the future. And since everything went to him, Anne barely got a thing. It sickened Aramis, and it took all of his control not to curse the King outloud.

They had been rather silent while the councilmen were looking through his will, when one of them suddenly exclaimed, "Dear God!"

"What?" asked Anne. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

The startled councilman looked up at Aramis, his eyes growing cold. "The King specifically said that he does not want you near the Queen … or the Dauphin."

The First Minister stood, his body immediately tensing. Anne realized that the Musketeer he once was was definitely still in him. "I am sure you are mistaken," he said calmly. "This is all-"

"This would not be a misunderstanding if it were in the King's will." The councilman made a cross and looked towards the ceiling. "I am sorry, Minister, but we will have to do as he wished … Guards!"

Suddenly, men came rushing in, holding muskets and swords.

"No!" Aramis yelled as they surrounded him. One of them grabbed his arms and pulled back; Aramis felt chains wrapping around his wrists. "You can't! Let me go, damn you!"

"Aramis … no!"

He stopped moving the minute he heard Anne's voice. He looked at her, throwing his head back to get his, now, sweat-dampened hair out of his face.

Anne's eyes fell on the councilmen, who were clearly terrified of the man that was once a Musketeer. "Whatever this is, it is most definitely a mistake," she said, somehow keeping her voice steady. "The minute I do discover the truth, I will clear his name, and you will make no move to stop me. For now, take him. But if I even find a scratch on him when I get him out, it will be you who are punished. Understood?"

All the men nodded, keeping their eyes away from Aramis, who was panting heavily, his eyes wide. He watched as his lover walked over to him, and smiled knowingly. "I promise, I will get you out as soon as I can. Alright?"

He slowly hung his head, admitting defeat. He felt himself being led away, and then in what felt like hours, he hit hard ground. He slid against a wall … a wall of what he presumed was the Bastille. As he forced himself to sit up, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Come on, Anne," he whispered. "Just please, get me out of here."

XxXxX

The minute Anne got out of the meeting room, she ran to her room and changed…

… and then she jumped on a horse and started making her way to the only place she could think of: the garrison.

"Constance!" she cried, searching frantically for one of her most loyal followers. She barely even paid attention to when Musketeers took off their hats and bowed to her. "Constance, I need you!"

"I'm here, Your Majesty, what's the matter?"

Anne turned around and sighed with relief when she finally saw Constance. "Where is d'Artagnan?" she asked. "I need the both of you."

The other woman walked up to her, taking her hands. "Come with me, Anne," she said reassuringly.

She quickly led him to what used to be Treville's quarters. There, she found d'Artagnan, who was reading something at his desk.

"Your Highness!" he exclaimed. When seeing her expression, he asked, "What is it? What happened?"

"It is Aramis," Anne explained, her voice trembling. "In his will, the King wrote that he did not want Aramis near me or our son. He's been taken to the Bastille. I told him that I would find the truth, but I am afraid that there is nothing I will be able to do." She paused, taking a deep and collective breath. "I need your help to help free him. If we don't … Aramis will be forced to live the rest of his life in prison. And I cannot live without him. So please … I beg of you, help me free him."

When she turned around, she saw that Constance was crying silently. As she looked back to d'Artagnan, she watched him nod. His eyes fell on her and he smiled. "I will do everything in my power to get him out," he finally said. "So will Constance. After all, he is one of my best friends."

Anne let out a breath. "God go with you, d'Artagnan," she said. "Your kindness will be greatly rewarded."

Constance shook her head. "The only reward we need is to see Aramis back at the palace, safe and sound. Nothing else."


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter! Here is where it gets angsty. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Please, don't forget to read and review!**

 **-M**

* * *

D'Artagnan spent the next hour sending a letter to Porthos. In the months since they all separated, Porthos was the only one who constantly sent letters to, both d'Artagnan and Aramis. But it seemed that Athos was nowhere to be found, although d'Artagnan understood that he was busy and traveling. It would be rather hard for a letter to be delivered to him. As a result, the new Captain of the Musketeers stopped writing to him.

So he wrote to Porthos, praying that he would get a reply soon.

Once the letter was sent, he came back to his wife and the Queen, smiling slightly. "If all goes well, Porthos will reply in a few days," he said. "For now, we will have to wait. I would suggest you go back to the Palace and try to find something that could help Aramis. Visit him, if you can. We do not know what may be being done to him."

Anne shivered at the thought of Aramis being tortured while in the Bastille. She truly hoped that he wouldn't come out of this physically - and mentally - abused.

She was suddenly forced out of her thoughts when Constance squeezed her hand.

"It will be alright, Anne," she said. "Aramis has been in these situations before, so he knows how to handle them. If Porthos cannot help us then we will find ourselves another way to free him. I promise you, we will prevail."

The Queen nodded, closing her eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming.

"Would you like me to come back to the Palace with you, while d'Artagnan waits for a reply from Porthos?" Constance then asked. "I can help you look for anything that can help Aramis…?"

Anne opened her eyes and nodded once more. "That would be wonderful, Constance, thank you," she replied.

"I may not be your servant anymore, but I will always continue to serve you, Anne. Both as my Queen, and my friend."

XxXxX

Aramis was woken up from sleep when he heard the sound of prison doors opening. He scrambled to sit upright, pulling against the chains that must have been put on him while he was asleep. They wrapped around his wrists and connected to the wall behind him. They were long enough for him to, both, stand up and lay down, to which Aramis was grateful.

A man suddenly opened the door and walked into his small, little cell, carrying a large chest, which he set aside on the ground. As he stood back up, Aramis saw that he was clearly in his thirties, had short, black hair, and was rather tall of height. He had this menacing expression on his none too friendly face. Aramis realized that his stay at the Bastille was not going to be a pleasant one if what he thought was right.

"First Minister Aramis!" the stranger began. "So nice to finally meet you. I hope your first night in the Bastille was pleasant."

"Who are you?" Aramis asked cooly.

"My name is Charles de Lansac," the man - Charles - explained. "I am the jailer the late King hired for when you would finally be sent to the Bastille. You see, he told me, that he wanted you to suffer after his death. He wanted you to really suffer for what you have done. And he told me what you did - sleeping with the Queen definitely has consequences. But that is not the point. The point is, that this is what he wanted. A letter was sent to me the minute you were put in here, and I came right away to fulfill my duty. This is what my client wanted, and I will carry out his wishes. Plus, my payment for this can - and will - last me for the rest of my life!" He paused to smile, his smile bringing shivers up Aramis' smile. It was such a cold smile; it held no emotion other than that coldness. "So," he finally continued. "Let's begin shall we? Or do you have any questions?"

Aramis couldn't help but scoff. "The Queen will have your head for this, Lansac," he said. "She will not let this go easily.

"The Queen? … Or your lover?" Lansac asked, the smile growing wider.

Aramis' eyes widened. He was unable to say a word.

"Wonderful! Now that we have the introduction done with, I think it is time to begin," Lansac said. "What would you like to start with first?" He walked over to that big chest by the door, and opened it, beginning to search through its contents. "We can start with … knifing … ooh! We can have some fun with muskets! … we have knife throwing … that should be fun. You know, I am known to be terrible at throwing knifes at a target. We could try that-"

"You monster!" Aramis cried, beginning to struggle against his chains. "This is all a game to you, isn't it?! You hurt people for fun … for your own delight. You're a sadist, nothing more. God will punish you for it. For hurting innocent people for nothing."

"Oh, but you are not innocent," Lansac argued, not taking his eyes off of what he was doing. "You slept with the Queen, and fathered a child. The Dauphin is a lie. If the people of Paris knew this, they would storm through the Palace and kill him within hours. And it is for this reason that King Louis wants to punish you. I am only doing my duty … And as for God, I am not afraid of him. He has already destroyed everything I held dear in my life. He cannot do anything else to me."

A silence took over the two men. The only other sound was the sound of weapons clashing against each other as Lansac searched through his chest.

"You know," he suddenly said. "How about we start with knife throwing. I have a feeling that it will be fun … For me. Not for you. You should start praying now; like I said, I am terrible with knives."


	3. Chapter 3

**New chapter! Aramis's everywhere!**

 **This is really where it gets angsty, so get ready.** **I hope you enjoy! Make sure to read and review,**

 **-M**

* * *

"I demand to see the King's will!" Anne yelled as she burst through the doors and walked over to the councilmen.

The men looked at her hesitantly. They all noticed the woman that was now accompanying Her Majesty.

One of them retrieved the will.

Anne quickly took it and left the room, heading into her own quarters with Constance right at her side. Once in her room, Anne let Constance close the doors, and then she spread out the, rather large, document on her desk.

She began skimming over the will, paying attention only when it got to what Louis had wanted to do with Aramis. It read:

 _I, King Louis XIII, declare that the Musketeer Aramis, or whoever he may be after my death, must be sent to the Bastille for unspeakable treasons against me. I have also decided, that I do not want him to ever see the Queen or the Dauphin again. To make sure of this, I have hired a jailer, whose name I will not mention, to make sure that he never gets out, and to get the punishment he deserves. That man needs to suffer for what he has done to his King. The minute Aramis is in prison, a letter should be sent to the jailer to come and fulfill his duties…_

Anne looked up with tears in her eyes. "Oh God," she whispered, feeling all her energy leave her.

"What does it say?" Constance asked, kneeling down beside her and taking both her hands.

"Louis hired a sadistic jailer," Anne began, her voice trembling. "To punish Aramis for having a relationship with me. He has sent him to the Bastille because he does not want him to see the Dauphin or myself ever again, but also so he could be tortured to death without anyone knowing … Dear God, Constance, what am I to do?"

"We will get him out before it is too late," Constance quickly assured her. "We just have to find something that will make Aramis seem innocent. Let us see what we can do when Porthos replies. Maybe he can help us."

The Queen nodded. "Alright," he muttered.

And then she felt Constance hug her, trying to provide her with some kind of support. "All will be just fine, Anne," she said, rubbing her back as Anne sobbed into her shoulder. "Aramis will be just fine."

XxXxX

Lansac quickly got bored of throwing knives, since Aramis was not even getting scratched by them. What he did enjoy was every time his prisoner flinched when a knife did almost hit him.

Aramis had been chained against the wall, unable to move. The heavy chains around his wrists and ankles had already caused bruised to form on his skin from all of his struggling. It was starting to become rather painful; Aramis hoped that Lansac would at least let him treat some of his injuries after this…

Pretty soon, Lansac decided to try something else. He had remembered that Aramis had plenty of parts of his past that really haunted him. He realized that if physical torment would not work, then maybe mental torment would.

So he dragged a chair in front of the chained man, and sat himself down, smiling. "So," he began. "I think we should try something different."

Aramis, whose head had been down, raised his head back up and stared at Lansac. "And what is that?" he asked him, his voice somehow rough.

Lansac's eyes began to shine as he continued, "Well, with each prisoner and client I get, I always try to get acquainted with them first, to see what I would have to deal with. So when I began reading about you, I found out that you had been part of the Savoy Massacre."

Aramis' eyes began to grow big, and he swallowed. He was truly afraid of what was going to happen to him from here. He did not want to think or talk about Savoy, especially not with someone who wanted to use all of his weaknesses against him.

"And so I asked myself," Lansac continued. "'Do I know anything about the Massacre?' And when thinking about it, I realized that I only know about how it was a training exercise that went wrong, with only two men surviving. Am I right?"

Aramis felt his mouth go dry. He suddenly saw bloodied snow on the ground below him, covered in the dead, motionless bodies of his Musketeer brothers. He began to shiver.

When Aramis didn't answer his question, Lansac frowned and stood from his chair. He grabbed Aramis' chin and forced him to look into his own eyes. "Am I right?" he asked again.

Slowly, Aramis nodded, closing his eyes.

Lansac let go and sat back down. "That is so interesting!" he exclaimed, a hint of sarcasm hidden within each word. "I have so many more questions!"

 _Oh, please, no,_ Aramis thought to himself. _No questions. Oh God, please spare me."_

But no, God did not spare him…

"What was it like," Lansac asked. "Laying in the cold snow while watching the dead bodies being eaten by crows? It must have been so difficult. I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for you-"

"No!" Aramis screamed, beginning to thrash against his chains. He didn't even feel it when his skin ripped open. The pain of that awful memory was already enough. Tears began to form in his eyes. "Stop, please!"

Lansac stood up, this time forcing Aramis to look at him by grabbing a fistful of the man's curly locks. "I will give you a break … for now," he said coldly. "But I assure you that when I come back, you will be in so much more pain that you are now."

With that said, he let Aramis down from his chains.

The poor prisoner collapsed and curled into himself, keeping his hands close to his chest. The shivering began to increase as images of Savoy kept forcing themselves into his mind.

Lansac kneeled down beside Aramis then, and took him by his hair once more. "I just have one more question for you," he said, watching as Aramis let his eyes close. His mouth was opened in a silent scream. "What if it were your three friends that had been in Savoy? What if they had died? What if you were the only survivor? What would you have done without them?"

Aramis whimpered in response, trying to pull away from Lansac's grasp.

The jailer grinned. "I will be back soon," he whispered into Aramis' ear.

As he walked out of the cell, he snapped his fingers, signaling three guards to come over to him. All of these men had been members of the Red Guard, and they all hated Aramis immensely.

"Give him a beating he will never forget," Lansac told them.

"With pleasure," one of them said.

The three men walked into the cell, looking at Aramis, who was still curled up into a tight ball, trembling.

"So this is what you have become," the leader of the group said. "You used to be unstoppable, insane even … but now, you're nothing but a coward who seems to be afraid of a simple memory. I say we teach him a lesson."

And then the hits and kicks came.

The poor man barely even paid attention to them, but the pain was quickly increasing. As darkness came to meet up with him, he let it.

He really did not want to feel anything anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**A new chapter! Not exactly my favorite, probably because there isn't enough angst in my opinion, but I am pretty sure that it will get better in the next chapter.**

 **For now, enjoy! Make sure to review your thoughts. Thank you for all the support you have already given me; I really appreciate it.**

 **-M**

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Constance asked, her eyes traveling up and down the big, dark building that was the Bastille.

Anne sighed. "Yes," she replied, slowly bracing herself for what she was going to see. "D'Artagnan was right when he said that we should see what is being done to him." She took a deep breath. "I have to do this."

Constance nodded, taking the other woman's hand.

Together, they walked into the prison, beginning to search for Aramis. They finally found a guard, who quickly bowed.

"Where is the prisoner, Aramis, being held?" Anne asked, squeezing Constance's hand gently.

"I am sorry, Your Majesty, but I have orders not to give away that man's position," the guards replied.

"And I am your Queen!" Anne raised her voice. "I want you to take me-"

"Paul, it's alright," a sudden voice said. A man came into the room, a smile on his face. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "I will take you to Aramis. My name is Charles de Lansac, by the way. It is a pleasure to finally lay eyes on Your Grace."

Anne watched the man with suspicion; something was definitely wrong. And she realized she was right when she saw Aramis.

The poor man was lying on the ground, trembling. Anne could see that his shoulder had been dislocated, but couldn't recognize any other injuries. He was muttering quietly, but Anne couldn't make out what he was trying to say.

"What did you do to him?" she asked Lansac, her tone turning cold.

"Only what the King wanted," Lansac replied, his voice equally as cold. "Now, do you want to see him or not?"

"Yes," Constance was quick to reply. "We do."

Lansac opened the cell door and walked over to Aramis' still, unmoving form. He pulled him up forcefully, eliciting a chocked yell from the younger man's mouth. It took Anne a lot of control not to gasp in shock. She watched as Aramis was dragged towards her, feeling her eyes fill with tears.

"Say something to your Queen, Minister," Lansac ordered, waiting for Aramis to respond.

When he did not answer, Lansac reached for his injured shoulder and squeezed, hard. Aramis screamed, scrunching his eyes closed. "Talk to your Queen, bastard!" he yelled.

"'Ey!" Constance exclaimed, taking a step forward. "Leave him be, he has already suffered enough."  
Lansac smirked. "Apologies, Madam, I just do not appreciate it when someone doesn't properly act in front of France's Queen."

"I'm alright, Constance," Aramis suddenly said, sounding weak and tired … and afraid. "I'll survive."

Anne looked back at the jailor. "I want him out of the Bastille this instant," she said.

The man only shook his head. "I cannot. The King gave me an order, and I will fulfill it," he responded.

"Then I will find a way to get him out, even if I have to send an army to get to him, and kill you," Anne spat out. She kneeled down beside Aramis, and took his face in her hands. "I promise, I will free you," she whispered. "Just give me some time."

Aramis broke into a small laugh. "Take as … much time as you n-need," he mumbled. "I'm not going … anywhere anyway."

Anne smiled and stood up. "Mark my words, Lansac, I will succeed," she said. "It is up to you whether or not you want to give in freely … or you will pay the price."

XxXxX

"They were torturing him?!" Porthos yelled, turning around and punching a wall.

The minute he got d'Artagnan's letter, he rushed to travel back to Paris. He had just arrived when the Queen came back from the Bastille, and was keen to listen to what Anne had to say. The minute he heard that Aramis had been hurt while in prison, he could not help but express his anger.

Now, as he looked up, he noticed that d'Artagnan, Constance, and Her Majesty were just as angry and upset as he was. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, my anger got the best of me," he said, quieter this time.

Anne shook her head and said, "You have no need to apologize. Your emotions are understandable. But our main focus is to figure out how to help Aramis get out."

Porthos nodded. "I don't think that this Lansac is just going to let him go … so maybe we will have to break in and take him to a safe place where he can heal and stay hidden.

D'Artagnan nodded. "I think that is the only way, Your Majesty," he told Anne. "Porthos and I can do it in a matter of days, if you wish."

"I think that would be best," Anne finally said. "What do you think, Constance?"

Constance looked up. "If we want to get Aramis back, we have to do it this way," she answered.

"So then it's settled," Anne finally said. "I will get you the maps to the Bastille; you can do as you wish with them, as long as you get Aramis."

XxXxX

"I will make you pay for not answering your Queen!" Lansac screamed, pushing Aramis to the ground.

Aramis moaned, about to try to stand back up…

… when he felt a familiar sensation of a whip on his back.

He cried out, curling into a tight ball as he tried to protect himself from the brutal hits.

"How dare you disobey me?!" Lansac continued, using all his strength to try and hurt Aramis further. "I will make you beg for mercy!"

Another hit.

Another strangled groan.

"BEG! Beg, damn you!"

Finally, Aramis gave in. "Stop! Please, I beg of you!" he yelled, his voice cracking.

Lansac stopped, stepping over Aramis while trailing the bloody end of the whip over his body. Aramis shivered. "Say it again," he said.

"May God forgive me for asking for mercy from a sadist," Aramis whispered.

And that's when Lansac roared in fury, bring the whip down over Aramis one more time. The poor prisoner screamed in agony, and then fell unconscious, feeling absolutely nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

**New chapter! I hope you like it. Please make sure to read and review.**

 **-M**

* * *

Days passed as d'Artagnan, Porthos, Constance, and Anne tried to figure out the best, safest, and quietest way to finally free their beloved Aramis. Soon enough, they made a plan, and then that same night, Porthos and d'Artagnan broke into the Bastille, beginning to search for Aramis.

When they managed to find his cell, Porthos quickly got rid of the men standing guard, and then they burst through the doors of the prison room.

And when Porthos laid eyes on his best friend, he almost collapsed. His comrade was lying crumpled on the cold, hard ground, shaking violently. His shirt was in tethered ruins, and he was submerged in a thin pool of blood and, what seemed like, water.

He knelt down beside Aramis, nudging a stray lock of soaked hair away from his face. "Aramis?" he said lovingly.

"Please…," Aramis murmured, attempting to jerk away from Porthos' grasp. He failed. "No more."

"Aramis, it's me, Porthos," the bigger man assured him. "I have come with d'Artagnan. We are going to get you out of here."

Aramis slowly opened his tired, glassy eyes, his hand blindly reaching for Porthos' hand. "P-Porthos?" He sounded broken.

"Yeah, it's me," Porthos replied, closing his fingers around Aramis' weak ones. "Don't worry, my friend, everything will be just fine."

As he gathered Aramis in his arms, Porthos watched as the man nodded, letting his head fall on the chest of the one holding him. He picked up him up with ease, and then he and d'Artagnan began making their way out of the prison, wanting nothing more than to leave that hellhole.

While carrying him, Porthos kept on muttering to Aramis, trying to keep his mind off the pain that was probably eating away at him.

"Remember when you that time when you stitched up a gunshot wound in the middle of a forest with no medical supplies?" he asked him. "I still can't believe you did that. And the best part is that I survived."

Aramis chuckled weakly. "Yes," he whispered. "Still not s-sure if I should … have o-or not."

"Ha ha, very funny," Porthos said. "If you didn't, I wouldn't be here saving you."

The injured man laughed again, and then buried his face in Porthos' clothing. "It seems you're … right." He closed his eyes.

Finally, after a seeming eternity, the two men got their friend back to the garrison. They immediately got him into his old room from when he was a Musketeer, which Constance and Anne had gotten ready for him. They had decided before not to mend his wounds when they got him back; they wanted to allow him the rest he really needed, and knew that they would only hurt him more if they mended his wounds.

When Anne saw her lover, she cried out, holding her hand to her mouth. "Oh God, Aramis," she breathed out. Her eyes stayed on his pain-filled face while Porthos carried him to bed. Once placing him down, he pulled a chair and motioned for the Queen to sit down.

"His shoulder was dislocated when I saw him," Anne pointed out, wondering if it still was.

D'Artagnan quickly checked, but shook his head when seeing that it did not look misplaced. "He must have put it back in," he explained. "He knew that it would have been dangerous if he didn't."

Anne nodded, sitting herself down on the chair Porthos prepared for her. She entangled her fingers in his unruly hair, trying to provide him with at least some kind of comfort. He felt him shaking under her fingertips, and she soon started to feel tears making their way down her face.

And then the long wait began…

XxXxX

Throughout the entire night, Aramis was plagued by nightmares, that took almost an hour to get under control. In that time, the four people waiting for him to wake up found out that he had been beaten, whipped, forced under water for long periods of time, sleep deprived, and worst of all, reminded of some of the most painful things that had happened in his past.

This made Porthos want to go after Lansac himself, but he forced himself to stay with Aramis. He needed him more than ever now.

But soon enough, Aramis woke up. He woke up with a startled gasp, his eyes snapping open. He looked around worriedly, almost expecting himself to be back at the Bastille. But when he saw Anne, his once tense body loosened. "A-Anne?" he said through a hoarse throat.

"Yes, Aramis, it's me," she replied softly. "You are at the rebuilt garrison, back in your old room."

Aramis nodded slowly. "My wounds," he stated quietly. His voice held no emotion … just pain. He wasn't the Aramis he once was.

"What about them?" d'Artagnan asked. He did not expect the answer Aramis gave him.

"They hurt."

The young warrior sucked in a breath. Aramis never told anyone that he hurt…

"How about we patch them for you then?" Porthos said.

Once again, Aramis nodded, saying nothing else.

Porthos and d'Artagnan quickly patched up all of their friend's wounds: his whip lashes, his broken ribs, and any other bruise or scratch they found. Aramis kept quiet the entire time, only wincing when his 'doctors' hit a soft spot.

When they finished, they left him to rest, understanding that after everything he had been through, he probably did not want to talk about it. The minute he fell asleep, Constance walked in, carrying some broth for Aramis. When seeing that he was sleeping, she sighed quietly and walked forward, giving the broth to Anne instead.

"I will get him some more later," she explained. "You should eat."

Anne smiled in gratitude. "Thank you." Her smile faded. "I knew that Aramis would not come out of this unharmed, but I really did not expect this."

"Me neither," d'Artagnan replied. "He will definitely take a long time to recover."

"I need some air," Porthos replied, walking out of the room.

He stood on the garrison's balcony, looking out into the distance. He took a deep breath and let it out, resting his hands on the railing and placing his head in his hands.

 _I will get Lansac for this, Aramis,_ he thought to himself. _I swear to God, I will avenge you for this._


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm backkkkkkk!!!!!!!!! Missed me? Probably not. I am truly so sorry for not writing in days. This week has not been the greatest, and I just didn't have too much time to write ... Actually, sorry, I lied: I had time to write but writer's block is an asshole so I didn't know what to write about. Whoops! Must have gotten the two things mixed up. Silly me!!**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I think that it's pretty cute. Please don't forget to read and review!!**

 **-M**

Then next time Aramis woke up, he stayed completely silent as his friends mended his wounds once more. It seemed as if he did not want to talk about anything.

He did the same thing each time he woke.

Anne began to get worried. She wondered what he really felt about this entire mess ... She had just been thinking about him, staring at his sleeping form, when he began to struggle.

"No!" he yelled weakly. "They weren't at Savoy … they weren-" He gasped. "No!!"

Anne quickly rushed to his side, placing a gentle hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Aramis, it's alright," she whispered soothingly. "I'm here, and you're safe. Come now, wake up. It is just a nightmare."

Suddenly, he cried out and his eyes opened. He began to breath heavily, looking around the room in terror. He finally looked Anne.

His lover saw the tears that were slowly forming in her eyes. "Oh, Aramis," she murmured softly, shifting so that she would be sitting next to him on the bed. She gathered him into her arms, feeling his shoulders beginning to shake as he started to cry. "Shhh, everything is just fine," she continued, stroking his hair. "I've got you now … Your friends and I are all here for you."

Aramis buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. As the tears came running down his face, he realized that after all this time, he never once had a chance to finally let it all out, to come out of this shocked state he was in. The only thing to do now was to talk about it…

"H-he mocked me," he started, keeping his voice quiet. He sounded tired. "He took all the bad things t-that I have to live with e-everyday … and mocked me. I don't think I have ever been this afraid in my life…"

"You do not have to be afraid of anything else," Anne quickly said, kissing the top of his head. "You are with us now, and we will figure out a way to get rid of that man once and for all … Alright?"

Aramis nodded slowly. A quiet groan escaped his mouth, and with it, the realization that he was in physical pain, not just mental. "Anne…," he said then. "Thank you."

He picked up his head and leaned forward, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. Anne returned it with the same amount of passion. She tasted tears in her mouth, and realized that it was not just Aramis'...

It was her own.

XxXxX

In a couple of days, Aramis found the strength to walk, with the help of Anne and Constance, of course.

As he finally stepped out into the sunlight for the first time, he had to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. He saw his other two friends coming up the stairs, smiling as they came to greet him.

"Welcome back," Porthos said, ruffling Aramis' hair a little. "It's about time."

Aramis' smile widened.

"So we have a plan," d'Artagnan began.

"What is it?" Anne asked, truly curious.

It was then that Porthos took out familiar looking documents. "Forgeries!" he exclaimed.

D'Artagnan cleared his throat. "We went to a friend of ours that is an expert at forgeries. He made an exact copy of the King's will … only with different handwriting. If we switch the two wills, then the councilmen will see that it was all fake, that Aramis is innocent, and that someone - probably Lansac - was just targeting him out of revenge. I really think that this will work."

"That sounds like a great plan!" Anne replied. "I will try to switch the wills out tonight." She reached out for d'Artagnan to give her the will, and once she had it in her hand, she put it into an inside pocket. She turned to face Aramis, who had not said a word during the entire conversation. "This will work, Aramis, it has to," she said. "After tonight, I promise it will be over." She kissed his cheek gently, and then ran off to the Palace.

Once seeing that she was gone, Constance placed her hand on his arm and asked, "Do you think it will work?"

Aramis chuckled softly. "At this point, I pray that it will," he replied weakly.

Porthos grinned. "You, my friend, need rest," he said. "So how about you sleep for a bit. The minute Anne returns, we will wake you."

Aramis shook his head. "I'm not tired," he said. It was a lie. He did not want to sleep because he did not want to have any more of those awful nightmares. He only prayed that the others did not know that. "Besides, I like the fresh air. It's good for me."

"All right then, we'll stay outside," the bigger man said. He brought a chair from his room and gestured for Aramis to sit, to which the man gratefully did.

XxXxX

"Aramis!"

When seeing him, young Louis began to run towards him, lunging into his arms.

Poor Aramis groaned, but quickly wrapped his arms around his son, hugging him tight. "It is so good to see you, Your Majesty," he said. His eyes wandered to Anne, who was smiling at what she was seeing.

He could not help but groan once more, and when he did, Louis pulled away from him and stared at him in awe. "You're hurt," he stated.

 _Just like his mother,_ Aramis thought.

"It's nothing, Your Grace, I'm alright."

When hearing that, Louis smiled and jumped down from Aramis' grasp, running into another room. As Aramis watched him leave, a warm feeling crept up into his heart.

"Minister Aramis?" he heard someone say.

He turned to see the councilmen standing in front of him, clearly guilty. "Yes?" he asked.

"We want to apologize for everything that you have gone through in the last week," one of them said. "We did not know that the King's will was a forgery. We will send men to look for that jailer. He will be punished appropriately."

Aramis nodded. "Thank you, Councilman," he said.

"Now, I think that we will leave you to rest." With that said, the councilmen retired.

The minute they left, Aramis began feeling unsteady. His legs felt weak and his head began to spin. He felt Anne's familiar hands holding him.

"Let's get you to your room, shall we?" she asked.

In what seemed like a long time, Anne got Aramis into his room. Once helping him under the covers, she lied down beside him, pulling him closer to her body.

"Rest," she said. "I will be right here."


	7. Chapter 7

**So I tried to reach 1000 words for the last chapter, but I guess it wasn't mean to be. Oh well...**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this final chapter of this, rather, intense story. Thank you for all the support you have given me along the way. I cannot wait for the next story I have plans for. Once again, enjoy!**

 **-M**

* * *

"Aramis, wake up! … Lansac is here!"

The man gasped awake, his eyes widening. "W-What?"

Anne, who was standing over him, sighed and said, "Lansac broke into the Palace. He is looking for you."

Aramis quickly got up, regretting it instantly. Pain blossomed in every part of his body, forcing him to hold onto Anne for support. "I can't," he said. "I need to face him. It's you and Louis who need to get out."

Anne shook his head. "I will not leave you," she replied. "You are too hurt to fight. If anything happens to you … I cannot even think about what will happen to me. And Louis will lose another father. Please, Aramis…"

"While this is all very touching," an extremely familiar, cold voice said. "I have to finish what I have started."

Aramis looked past Anne, and he gasped quietly. "Lansac," he whispered. He quickly pulled Anne behind him, his protective instincts kicking in.

"The King asked me to punish you, which is exactly what I intend to do," Lansac said, taking out a sword.  
Aramis was quick to reach for his own rapier from his bedside table. "Stay behind me, Anne," he muttered to Anne, keeping his eyes on his opponent. "Please."

They began to circle each other.

Aramis knew that Lansac was studying him, trying to figure out all his weaknesses. He tried hard not to show them.

Finally, Lansac lunged.

Somehow, Aramis managed to dodge the attack, deciding that he would just dodge the attacks, not make them. He just hoped that his friends would arrive before he got tired of fighting.

"You know, I would have thought that you would give up for the sake of your lover," Lansac taunted. "But no, apparently you really do not care about her as much as I thought."  
Out of anger, Aramis pounced at him, attempting to bring him down. But he failed.

Lansac easily shoved his sword through Aramis' side, smiling mercilessly. The injured warrior cried out, unable to move. As his eyes darted up and down, he began to breath heavily. He saw Lansac watching him with a spiteful grin on his face. "Your anger got the best of you," he said. "And now you will die."

Aramis closed his eyes, feeling blood in his mouth. _My soul is prepared,_ he said to himself.

Suddenly, a gunshot sounded.

As Lansac fell backwards, he pulled the sword with him. Aramis screamed, collapsing when he finally felt the metal slide out of his body. Someone - Anne, he realized - fell beside him and gathered him into their arms.

In the meantime, Porthos placed his pistol back into its holster and walked past Lansac. "That is for hurting Aramis," he growled. Once making sure the monster was dead, he rushed to Anne and Aramis, falling onto his knees. "We need a medic," he said. "If he loses too much blood, he won't make it."

"We need to help him!" Anne sobbed, wrapping her arms around Aramis' trembling body.

"We will, Your Majesty," Porthos promised. "He will be just fine."

XxXxX

"I think he is waking," a woman's voice said.

As Aramis finally came to, agony spreading throughout his entire body. He moaned softly.

"Aramis, everything is alright," he heard a female voice say. "Just open your eyes for me … please."

Trying to open his eyes proved to be more difficult than he thought. But once he did, he saw Anne, Constance, Porthos, d'Artagnan, and, this time, Athos sitting by his bed. They all had worried expressions on their faces. He looked around slowly, and found that he was back in his room at the Palace. Lansac was nowhere to be found; he wondered where he was…

"There you are," Porthos mumbled. "How are you feeling, my friend?"

Aramis' laugh turned into a heavy cough, and he doubled over in pain. Hands held him steady while his body continued to spasm. God, he just wanted the pain to be over.

When he finally found the strength to sit back up, he kept his eyes closed; his head was spinning. "Lansac?" he asked hoarsely.

"Porthos killed him," Athos said. "He's gone."

"Your nightmare is over," Anne said lovingly. She took his trembling hand and gave it a squeeze. "You're free."

The man threw his head back then, letting out a breath. "Thank God," he whispered. It was then that he felt his bed dip under someone's weight. He opened his eyes to see Athos sitting beside him, his eyes shining. "It is good to see you, Athos," Aramis said. He reached for his hand, grasping it tightly.

"And you as well," Athos replied. "Now, I think we will leave you now."

D'Artagnan came up to him and cupped his face. "You better rest, Aramis," he said. "I do not know what we would do without you."

"I will do my best, d'Artagnan," Aramis responded. "I swear."

Everyone but Anne retired from the room. After a few moments of silence, the Queen smiled and sat beside him. She ran her hand through his curly locks, sighing when her lover leaned into her touch. "You can now rest at ease," she said.

Aramis scoffed. "I doubt that it will be that easy … but you are right," he said. He paused. "Thank you, Anne. For everything."

Anne leaned forward and kissed the top of his head ever so gently. "I will always be there for you," she replied. "Always.

And with that … Aramis' nightmare finally ended.


End file.
